


Drabble for Shireen Baratheon Week

by politicalmamaduck



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4268472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Tumblr's Shireen Baratheon week. Some positivity for our beloved stag princess and her valiant knight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble for Shireen Baratheon Week

In the great tales, the knights were always handsome, valiant and powerful in their bright shining armor. The princesses they rescued were always beautiful maidens, gentle in their words and grateful to the knights that saved them. Once they became queens, they rewarded their great knights with many honors and allowed them to wear their favors in the jousts. All lived in peace and harmony.

Shireen Baratheon knew this was a lie.

Her ancestress, Rhaenyra Targaryen, the beautiful princess, fought a war against her half-brother to become a queen and was fed to a dragon, much like the nightmares of stone dragons coming to life that woke her in the middle of the night and left her shaking in her bed, aching for a hug from her father.

She was a princess, and she was no beauty, with a left cheek mottled by grayscale.

Her valiant knight, or ka-niggit as he once had said, rescued her not from a monster, but from boredom and loneliness. Nor was he handsome—his beard and skin had been weathered by age, his left hand was missing the tips of four fingers.

But this aged yet valiant knight was her friend and companion amidst the roaring waves and salty air of Dragonstone. Her cousin Edric was gone, across the Narrow Sea to Essos, the smallfolk said, away from the red lady and her god.

Shireen did not like the queer way the red lady looked at her, did not like how much time her parents devoted to spending with her, how her mother had changed since she had arrived. The red lady, whose hungry god always begged for more to be burnt in his honor.

Shireen liked the stories about her Targaryen ancestors and their dragons; about the last Storm Queen, her ancestor Argella Durandon; about the beautiful princesses and their bright knights, far more than she did the red lady’s talk of a prophecy and a Long Night and R’hllor.

“Under the sea the dragons burn bright, all through the day and into the night, oh, oh, oh,” said Patchface. Patchface made her laugh and giggle, but he also made her fear the dark monsters under the sea of which he sang. He was no true companion for a princess like in the old tales. Those princesses had wise and caring ladies surrounding them, sharing stories and discussing the handsome knights.

Patchface danced and sang about being under the sea and jingled the bells on his cap as he left the room, leaving Shireen to her reading, leaving her with no one to discuss anything with, even if she hadn’t anything to discuss.

“What are you reading today, my lady?” He entered the room with a bow.

“I’m finishing _An History of Aegon the Conqueror_ ,” she replied. “Haven’t you read that before?” he asked. “Yes, but I so love the tales of Aegon and his dragons. His sisters rode dragons too, and they fought just as much as he. Can you imagine, women fighting alongside men, with their own Valyrian steel swords, astride a great dragon?”

“So the tales say, my lady. It would be a fearsome thing to behold. I don’t know that I would be brave enough to fight against a dragon.”

“Of course you would,” she insisted. “If you were defending your lord and family, you would fight until the end.”

Davos paused for a moment to look at the little princess. Her eyes were clear and shining in their eagerness and honesty.

“I thank you for your confidence, my lady,” he said gallantly, taking her hand in his own. “Sadly, I must go to attend your lord father now, but you enjoy your reading.”

“Thank you, Ser Davos,” she said. “I believe I shall.”

Ser Davos smiled at her as he left the room.

He was Ser Onion Knight, and he was as brave as any of legend. Even if their story didn’t quite match the great tales.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr [here](http://politicalmamaduck.tumblr.com/post/122551586604/drabble-for-shireen-baratheon-week).
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and constructive feedback, and you can find me on Tumblr at politicalmamaduck.tumblr.com.


End file.
